Restless Slumber
by Oven-Mitt Troll
Summary: A look on what might have happened the day of Grima's sealing.


Grima can feel it. Even through the vast expanse of darkness he could feel the thin threads that connected his consciousness throughout the various timelines where he existed slowly but surely be cut away. One by one they would become entangled in the loop Naga had created and then would either be cut off from him entirely or rejoin the deep sleep that was his prison only to fray and wither away in the distant future.

No matter where Grima searched there was always Naga's presence there, in some way shape or form, even if he has killed her a thousand times over in the darkest of futures, there was always a small glint of hope and the sharp sting of Falchion or some other fragment of her power that ends his line.

Grima retreats deeper into sleep and tries to numb himself enough so that he is no longer reminded of the countless failures, the utter futility that his existence amounts to. His bones were dust in the sand but his voiceless groan that echoed in the void sounded like the creaking of those dry bones.

He once had the whole world tremble at the mere whisper of his name. Grima had destroyed fortresses that men claimed impenetrable, dried up vast seas with only his hot breath, and had blotted out the sun every time he took to the skies. Both man and dragon alike had thrown wave after wave of attacks at him, but they were all just chaff in the wind to him. No being, living or dead, could compare to the nightmare that was the fell dragon Grima.

Yet while the entire world had bent the knee, either in fear and respect of his power, one realm still refused to pay tribute to him. Ylisse was but a small nation back then, unassuming yet stood out like a beacon of hope and defiance, like a lighthouse in the eye of a hurricane. They amused him, and so Grima sent a warning of his coming. He wanted to see what pitiful defenses they would muster up against him. It would have made his crushing of them all the more satisfying.

He knew well in advance of the pact the first Exalt had made with the divine dragon in response to his arrival. Grima thought of it as more incentive to annihilate the land they were so desperate to protect; for he did not fear Naga. While he was casting his dark shadow over the world Naga did nothing to stop him. Naga could do nothing to stop him. The queen of the divine dragons had limited herself, forgoing her draconic form and its power in favor of a manakete's. Instead of ruling over the humans she chose to mediate for them from her mountain, a grave waste in the eyes of fell dragon.

While Grima himself had scads of human followers, nipping at his tail for just a small drop of his power and favor, he did not see the point in Naga's devotion to her disgusting brood of humans she called her children. Grima would have reduced her precious Ylisse to ash and showed her just how meaningless her pining for the humans was.

Yet, when he had finally clashed with the first of a long line of kings and queens, he did not expect the shame of defeat to fall upon himself and not the blue eyed human. Naga's fang had clipped his wings and pierced the skull cap that protected his true face. Milky white eyes squinted in the light reflected off of the ivory blade while six orbs of red glowed angrily above his jaw.

The Exalt was taken aback by the sight, a human face (however distorted it was) worn by the beast that was humanity's greatest enemy in that age. But before Grima could capitalize on his enemy's hesitation, a bolt of lightning struck him on his now exposed facade.

When his vision cleared Grima saw a cloaked figure sanding beside the Exalt, tome in one hand and a fist full of sparks in the other. Grima roared in rage as he recognized the design of the newcomer's garb. One of his own worshipers had turned on him! Grima reared his head back, intending to blast the scum with a torrent of unholy fire, but the Exalt intercepted the blast with a golden shield. His flames were parted when it met the jeweled platting of the Fire Emblem, and both humans stood unscathed.

The Exalt's blade shone with a blue aura as it was thrust into the fell dragon's chest. Veins of light creped under Grima's scales where the wound was made, his limbs became unresponsive as the ethereal webbing eked over them. The dark dragon writhed against Naga's power until he was completely immobilized, glaring at the two responsible for his humiliation.

"You…" Grima hissed, straining to speak as the paralysis continued to spread. "You can't hold me like this forever! Once I am free, I will destroy you and your precious Ylisse!"

"Your reign of terror ends here, monster!" The Exalt declared with conviction while the turncoat Grimlel watched Naga's magic work on their former master.

As the cinders of the scorched earth continued to burn, the Fire Emblem glowed and a wreath of blue fire manifested between the humans and Grima.

Naga herself had come down from her mountain home.

Naga's whelp and the traitor both were stunned by her arrival, but the fell dragon continued to glower and struggle against his magical bonds.

"Naga! So this is how it is… You sent your human pawns to restrain me and now you've come to gloat!" Grima snarled as black ooze began to seep out of his mouth. "Do you think you can kill me, O divine one?" he spat. "I can not die! So long as there is the fear of the final death in the hearts of man, dragon, and beast-folk alike I will endure! I am the wings of despair. I am the breath of ruin. You can not delay the inevitable, Naga. Strike me down now and I will return!"

The two humans held their weapons at the ready as Grima struggled to lift himself off the ground, but Naga simply glided towards the prone dragon with elegant steps and as she drew nearer Grima's movements stopped save for the heaving of his pierced chest.

"The words you speak are not even your own, Grima." Her voice was soft and melancholy, but in his ears they rung like a church bell. "I have not come to harm you, but to recover something that has long been lost and neglected."

"What… are you taking… about?" Grima hissed through gritted teeth. "I am Grima! My words… have always..."

"You do not remember," Naga's voice echoed in his head, "The one you were before."

"I AM GRIMA!" He bellowed "I always have been!"

Grima panted heavily, his torso became completely enveloped in light, while Naga closed her eyes and raised her hand towards the gaping wound.

"Alas, you do not see time as I do. You do not even remember your own origins," a small beam of light emanated from the cut the Falchion made and met Naga's fingertips as she spoke, "A soul caught between life and death, a sacrifice made to prevent catastrophe, consumed by the vengeful spirits that could not be quelled forever," a look of pain crossed over her face, "a victim of my own incapability to keep evil at bay."

As she finished speaking a small mote of light and color slowly traveled through the beam until it rested between her hands.

"…Wha..t… is…tha…t…?" Grima gasped as the light that light that burned beneath his skin faded away.

"Something I doubt you could recognize now," Naga softly answered as she carefully cupped the small orb as it flickered like a burning flame, "Your heart."

Grima let our a roar of fury that shook the earth before flaring his wings and taking to the skies, freed from the bonds that held him down.

"My lady!" The Exalt rushed to defend the divine dragon, fearing retaliation from the fell beast.

"Fear not," Naga assured as Grima's shadow disappeared into the West, "He is merely hiding himself away. He feels the bonds holding himself together unraveling. Soon he will sleep." The dark clouds that hung over head from the fell dragon's presence began to dissipate, "A sleep much like death: separating mind from body, but he will not be dead, even as his remains wither away."

* * *

The Grima that coils and sulks in the timeless void of sleep does not know what happened later that day. His last memories are of falling into the wastes as the last ounce of his power gave out. That Grima is forever suspended in his own anger and bitterness. However, the heart remembers, as it was gently held between the hands of its rescuer.

* * *

"Truly, is there no way to end the fell dragon's life for good? Must the future be plagued by his lingering existence?" The Exalt asked Naga, the toll of battle finally becoming evident as Falchion's blade is driven into the ground and used as a support to remain standing.

"There is," Naga answerd eyes still lingering on the wisp between her fingers, "But not by my power. For Grima to end entirely, he would have to end himself."

"But you are holding the demon's heart in your hands! Can you not…" The Exalt quickly bowed their head in shame when Naga looked up to meet their eyes.

"A soul can not be destroyed, my child." She softly chided, "A soul can endure much pain and change, like iron heated and beaten into the form of a sword." Naga gestures to her fang, a fraction of her own power and soul, "It can even shatter and be reformed, but a soul can not be destroyed completely." Naga's gaze passes from her Exalt to the watching eyes of the hooded figure. "They can only be passed on."

The hooded person did not meet her gaze, but continued to stare at the light Naga held in her hands, deep in thought.

"Then we must seal it away," the Exalt declared with conviction, "Seal it so that it is never reunited with its body!"

"Any seal, or spell, or incantation," the former fell disciple finally spoke up, "will be dissolved by Grima's power in a matter of days." Their gaze leaves the glowing orb to meet the divine dragon's, "Unless you seal it with blood."

"What are you saying?" The blue eyed lord took a step towards the hooded spell-caster.

"In order to keep Grima's heart from regenerating his physical form it must be contained in another living vessel," Red eyes peeked from under the hood as they continued, "his power would become diluted from mixing with the blood and soul of a human."

Naga bent her head, verdant tresses falling in front of her face. "What you say is true. In order to keep Grima subdued, a blood pact, much like the contract made between me and the Exalt, must be made." The fair lady lifts her eyes to meet blue and branded ones, "Just as my power flows in your veins, my child, so must the blood of another harbor the last fragment of the fell dragon's."

"If anyone should become a sacrifice it should be me," The Exalt rose to full height despite the pain lingering in their wounds, "I would lay my life and offer my blood as a shield from Grima's return-"

"You can't."

The hooded mage stepped between the Exalt and the divine dragon. "Your blood is divine, purified by Naga's flames. The heart would either reject you outright or try to kill you upon being received." Blue eyes met red with apprehension, not wanting to be dismissed so, before going wide with disbelief at what was said next. "I offer myself as the vessel."

An unreadable smile pulled at Naga's lips, "You came to Ylisse in search of freedom from Grima. This course will not only bind you, but your descendents to him. Do you still wish to proceed with this knowledge?" Silence settled in the air. The hooded figure stood firm, holding the attention of both Naga and the Exalt.

"Yes."

"Someone else could carry this burden though; you are not the only selfless soul."

"I know but," the red eyed stranger was now standing before Naga, "If I continue to run away, it would only further prove my helplessness against my old master's will," a pair of gloved hands hovered beneath Naga's as if supporting the tongue of dragon fire as it hung in the air, "but if I were to become the key that seals Grima away from the world, perhaps that could be enough."

"It could drive you mad," the Exalt intercedes, "you have no idea what that thing can do to you. Even if it doesn't, you and your children will be hunted down by Grima's remaining servants. Do you truly want that to be your fate?"

"Fate?"

* * *

_We're not pawns of some scripted fate. I believe we're more. Much more._

Words echo through time, not bound by bloodies but by mirroring resolve. Through our own decisions we become heroes, martyrs, or monsters. No mater what, the bonds we form or shatter are a testament to our own free will. Destiny can be changed, fate rewritten. Tomorrow is sure to come, but we will not know what shape it will take until we open our eyes and see it ourselves.

Look forward to the Awakening.


End file.
